Dying Love
by JackunzelForever
Summary: One-shot: Both are rich. He's a serial killer, she knows who he is, they're in love.


She sat on a park bench, minding her own business. He sat on the one opposite of her. She read _Pride and Prejudice_. He read a poetry book. She looked up. He looked up. Their eyes met. He stood up. She stood up.

"Hello," he said. His voice was deep, musical even.

"Hello," she said. Her voice was light, a singer's voice.

"I didn't expect to see you here."

"Well, I do come here every Saturday."

"I know." His voice was practically a whisper.

"Do you remember?" she murmured.

"I remember, my love."

"I'm still your love?" She looked up at him.

He smiled. "Of course." He kissed her hands. "I've always loved you, my darling-"

"Sh." She held a finger to his lips. "Do not say my name in public, as I do not say yours."

"Of course," he repeated, sweeping into a low bow and offering her his arm. She smiled serenely and they walked arm in arm across the park.

"So, still doing your _business_?" she asked him quietly.

"Yes. Are you still doing yours?"

"Yes. I never stopped."

"Me neither." They smiled at one another.

"Did you know that there is to be a ball tonight?" he asked her.

"Why, yes, of course!" she replied. "All of the wealthy people shall attend. I got the invitation two weeks ago, darling."

"I got mine three weeks ago." His smile was teasing.

"Oh! Again?" Hers was teasing as well. "I suppose you are richer than I. But it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"No. It does not." His lips grazed her cheek. "I love you."

"And I you." She smiled. "See you at the ball tonight, my love."

* * *

She entered the ballroom wearing a light green ballgown with lavender accents. She wore an elaborately detailed mask embroidered with flowers. She glanced around the room until he came out of the crowd wearing a red mask.

"You," she breathed.

"You," he said in reply. He leaned in and whispered into her ear: "Come with me." He took her hand and gently led her away.

"Where are we going?"

"We'll be there soon, darling." He flung open a set of doors and stepped onto the balcony.

"Oh! It's breathtaking," she told him.

"I know. Just like you." He closed the doors quietly and motioned for her to sit down on the marble bench, seating himself next to her. "Up here, where no one can hear us, I am going to tell you something."

She scooted closer and he put his arm around her. His voice became a hushed whisper and she strained to hear it. "The victim tonight shall be at this very ball. She is a-"

"A woman this time?" she asked.

"Yes. A woman. Anyway, she is one of the wealthiest women in the country. I will kill her secretly."

She sighed. "Why does your job have to involve killing? Why must they pay you to cause death to another?"

"They want power. Control. And they blackmail me to do it, or else I wouldn't do it." He massaged his temples. "I have hurt too many people, my dear."

She rubbed his arm. "It's okay. I will love you no matter what you do."

"And I love you, no matter what happens to either of us." He tried to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

"Right." She rested her head on his shoulder.

After a while, he said, "I suppose we'll have to go back inside now." They got up and went back to the ballroom.

Everyone was dancing. He swept her up into a dance and she laughed, loving the feeling. But then, a loud crash sounded in the hall and everybody either gasped or screamed. The doors all slammed shut.

"I had a feeling this might happen," he groaned. She kissed him, saying, "It's all right, it's going to be all right."

The crowd of people pressed into the couple. She felt a sharp pain in her side and doubled over, crying out. She saw a blade sticking out and he was pulling it out. She gasped, realizing what this meant.

"They wanted you to kill _me_?" Her voice was of anguish and pain.

"I'm sorry." His eyes were full of regret. "And I'm going to make it up to you." He pulled out a bow nocked with an arrow and pulled the bowstring. He shot it upwards, at the gold-and-crystal chandelier, and it came crashing down.

"Move out!" he commanded, and the people screamed, running as far as they could from the chandelier. He stood perfectly still, right underneath it.

"No!" she screamed, trying to move towards him.

He was crushed by the huge chandelier. She stumbled towards him, trying to pull him out by his legs. She managed to do it, and he was still alive. Alive, but barely.

"I love you, Elsa," he whispered.

"I love, you, Hans," she whispered back.

The two lovers died in each others arms.


End file.
